Outside the sports lab, James and the others filed out in a large group.
"LeBron, is that it?" Anthony asked as he followed James, confusion written all over his face.
This so-called potential test was completely different from the tryout he had expected.
They had spent the entire morning at a friendly luncheon.
In the afternoon, they would go to Chen Yu’s clinic together for physical examinations.
And just like that, the first day’s agenda was complete.
It had been so relaxed that they hadn’t even touched a ball.
James shook his head silently. He found it strange too, but Chen Yu’s authority was beyond question, so he had no choice but to go along with it.
Just as he was thinking, another large group of people appeared up ahead—a crowd of reporters.
There were quite a few of them, probably twenty or thirty.
As soon as they saw the players emerge, the reporters immediately surged forward.
Before he could react, two or three reporters had already crowded in front of James.
"LeBron, could you please tell us what the testing items were today? Can you reveal how it was different from a traditional combine?"
That question was fairly normal.
But the next question made James’s heart drop. "LeBron, do you think you’re qualified to be the number one pick? Do you think you deserve the media’s hype and praise?"
Slightly aggressive.
James subconsciously glanced around out of the corner of his eye and saw that all the other prospects had been pulled aside by reporters for interviews.
A player like Kovol, who got zero attention and was projected to go undrafted—a complete nobody—had subconsciously assumed the massive crowd of reporters was there for the top prospects.
Kovol had even taken a step back, trying to walk around them.
’They’re not going to interview me, anyway.’
But unexpectedly, a reporter cut through the crowd, came right up to him, grabbed him, and asked a question: "Kyle, what do you think about your high school friend, Kirk Hinrich, getting massive attention, with the media widely predicting he’ll be a lottery pick, while you’re projected to go at the end of the first round?"
That was a shot to the heart. A really nasty one.
Hearing that question, Kovol almost broke.
Feeling like he had nothing left to lose, he was tempted to remind the reporter that it wasn’t just Hinrich; his other good friend, Nick Collison, was also a stud projected to be a lottery pick.
There was a time when they were considered equals, the talk of Iowa.
But as they moved on to college, they drifted apart. They were no longer in the same league as players.
Sometimes, Kovol would reflect on it. ’Did I not work hard enough? I shoot countless threes every day. I endured all that grueling practice. I definitely put in the effort.’
In the end, Kovol never found an answer and could only console himself with the thought that everyone’s just different.
Seeing the reporter’s expectant gaze still fixed on him, Kovol said awkwardly, "I wish them the best. As for the difference in our draft projections, I can only say that I’m not outstanding enough. I still need to work harder."
And Kovol wasn’t the only one in an awkward position.
The prospects there discovered that this group of reporters seemed to be targeting them intentionally, asking extremely pointed questions.
Take Wade, for example. The first question from the reporters surrounding him was enough to make him break.
The reporter asked if he regretted his decision in his sophomore year to have part of his meniscus removed for the team, a choice that ended up hurting his draft stock and potentially costing him a ten-million-dollar contract.
It would have been fine if the reporter hadn’t mentioned the ten-million-dollar contract. At the mere mention of it, Wade’s heart was gripped by a painful squeeze.
How could he not have regrets? Especially after he injured his knee again in his junior year, leading to a flood of media predictions that his draft stock would fall due to the lingering injury risk.
He regretted it so much he could kick himself. But what could he do about it now?
Meanwhile, on the second floor of the office building opposite the exit, Chen Yu and Nelson stood by a window, watching the prospects being interviewed from a distance.
"I bet these prospects never imagined you had so many difficult questions prepared for them," Nelson said with a smile.
After all, Chen Yu had been the one to call in these reporters.
He had even prepared the questions they were to ask.
The purpose was still psychological assessment, but it also served to test how they answered—and how they held up—when facing the media, especially under pressure.
Chen Yu just smiled. He turned away from the window and gestured for Nelson to come watch the recordings from the earlier get-together.
The entire event had been recorded.
"Chen, what can you really tell from this?" Nelson asked, sitting down and staring at the large screen in confusion.
As far as he was concerned, it was just a normal party. Everyone seemed happy.
Chen Yu opened his notebook to take notes, then explained, "It’s simply a form of observation. In a tense environment, people subconsciously put on a mask and overthink all their actions. But in an environment that is as relaxed as possible, a lot of their behavior is revealed subconsciously. Through careful observation, you can truly get a glimpse into their inner thoughts."
"Take how they eat, for example."
Chen Yu pointed at the screen.
"We provided many types of food. Some people will zero in on the high-calorie delicacies, while others are more restrained. And it’s not just the food, but the drinks. Alcohol is very harmful to an athlete. A sufficiently self-disciplined player will stay away from alcohol."
"In an intentional testing environment, they would consciously put on an act, making what they believe to be the correct choices. But in a relaxed setting like this, they will subconsciously choose what they actually like."
"This is how you can tell if a person is truly self-disciplined and what they’re like in private."
And Chen Yu had records. The servers handing out drinks had been instructed by Chen Yu to observe and keep a tally.
"Out of forty-seven people, only six chose plain water or juice, and only thirteen chose relatively healthy food options. We can infer that they are very mindful of their diet even in private, and are relatively self-disciplined. These are all pluses in their favor," Chen Yu said.
Nelson was stunned for a moment, then gave a thumbs-up.
Chen Yu continued, "Besides that, you can also discern their personalities. For example, some players are relatively introverted and not skilled at socializing. They automatically choose a corner and observe what everyone else is doing. And then there are others."
On the screen, James held a bottle of beer as he weaved through the crowd.
Nelson followed Chen Yu’s gaze and couldn’t help but remark, "This kid’s a regular social butterfly."
Chen Yu had mentioned before that James was overly mature, too worldly and smooth for his age. Now, Nelson believed it.
Chen Yu nodded in agreement, then said, "That’s his way of dealing with the world. We can’t simply judge it as right or wrong. But did you notice? He talked with everyone, and toasted with over two-thirds of them. But he only carried that one bottle of beer, and after the party ended, I had someone check it. It was still two-thirds full."
"He barely drank at all!" Nelson exclaimed, then frowned. "This kid’s a little fake, isn’t he?"
Walking around the whole party with a beer, toasting and chatting with anyone and everyone, but in the end, he only drank a third of a single 330-milliliter bottle. If that wasn’t being fake, what was?
"No."
Chen Yu shook his head. "It just proves that he’s smart enough to know the right way to socialize, but also disciplined enough to have extremely strong self-control."
"This kid is incredible. He’s going to be very successful."
The more Chen Yu watched and interacted with him, the more he felt that James was guaranteed to succeed.
He had the talent, which was the prerequisite for success, and he was also smart enough, with first-class social skills and emotional intelligence.
A guy like that could thrive in any field, you could say.
"But?" Nelson asked in return.
’After praise like that, there has to be a ’but’ coming.’
Folding his arms, Chen Yu thought for a moment before saying, "If I have to point out a ’but,’ I’d say his personality lacks a certain obsessive quality. People with such high emotional and intellectual intelligence are often like that—too shrewd, too rational when evaluating gains and losses."
"A personality like that makes it easy to succeed, of course. But to become truly great, you need a bit of that obsession."
As they say, you can’t be great without a little madness. When faced with setbacks and difficulties, some people will stubbornly fight to the bitter end, sticking to their path to create their own legend.
Whereas overly shrewd people might back down. They’ll be more rational, conclude that the effort isn’t proportional to the reward, and give up on their current path to find an easier road to success.
"Of course, that’s not necessarily a bad thing."
Chen Yu shook his head again. "Let me give you an analogy. Let’s say the destination is the same. Some people choose to take the straight path. Even if cliffs and mountains stand in their way, they will just keep trying to climb over them."
"Then there are other people. After they fail and realize how difficult it is, they’ll think it over and choose another way to cross the mountain, like finding a plane to fly over it. They reach the same destination and achieve greatness all the same. But let me ask you, which approach do you think is better?"
Nelson thought for a long moment, then said, "The first one, of course. Because that kind of person is more worthy of admiration."
"Exactly."
Chen Yu shrugged. "The first type of person more closely fits the general public’s definition of greatness. The second type, we might see as taking a shortcut."
"So he’s the second type, then," Nelson said, pointing at the screen.
Chen Yu answered noncommittally, "It’s hard to say. People change. You can’t just jump to such a simplistic conclusion. But without a doubt, he will become a superstar. It’s a pity we don’t have the number one pick this year. Otherwise, choosing him would be an absolutely can’t-miss decision."
He’s the kind of player like O’Neal or Duncan—draft him and you’ve absolutely hit the jackpot.
Nelson nodded pensively. "Then what if we do what we did last year? Find a team in the potential lottery and trade for their first-round pick? We could try our luck again. Your luck is so good, after all."
It was true that last year they had relied on Chen Yu’s luck to unexpectedly land the number one pick.
"What are you thinking?" Chen Yu shook his head, speechless.
Brian had been trying to do exactly that since mid-season, but no one would give him the time of day.
That just went to show how much envy their stunt from last year had generated.
Besides, to be frank, Yao Ming and James were players in completely different tiers.
Yao Ming had some pretty significant weaknesses in his physical talents.
But when it came to physical talent, James had almost no weaknesses.
Furthermore, Yao Ming was an international player and was older at the time. Frankly, he hadn’t reached the level of James, who was the consensus number one pick regardless of which team won the lottery.
The only reason this year didn’t see a repeat of the "Tank for Duncan" phenomenon, where teams across the league were intentionally losing, was that James hadn’t been certain he would declare for the draft.
James only officially declared for the draft last month, so even if teams had wanted to tank, they couldn’t have planned for it ahead of time.
Under those circumstances, with the regular season already over, there was no way a lottery team would trade away its first-round pick.
They would have to think long and hard even if you offered them an All-Star in return.

Comments

Loading...